


Auld Lang Syne

by Emrys MK (mk_malfoy)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Camelot, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Danger, Drama, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Merlin, M/M, Minor Character Death, Modern Era, Mystery, Mystery Character(s), Pining, Post-Canon, References to Canon, Reincarnated Arthur, Reincarnation, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5488502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mk_malfoy/pseuds/Emrys%20MK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Camelot's Citadel in 2015 is not what it was in 530. There are memories at every corner that Merlin and Arthur must learn to live with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Auld Lang Syne

**Author's Note:**

  * For [accioscar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/accioscar/gifts).



> Accioscar, I hope you enjoy what I've written for you. When I saw that your favourite type of fic was reincarnation, I was over the moon and knew this would be a fun and exciting story to write. I've included as many of your likes as possible and fervently hope this story brings a huge smile to your face.
> 
> Thanks so much to my wonderful beta readers Headfirstforwaywardhalos and Sindhu; this fic wouldn't be what it is without their advice and enthusiasm throughout the writing process. I also want to thank Archaeologist_d for her help with the layout of Pierrefonds. I didn't follow her directions exactly in every instance, but I did use many of them and am so grateful for her help.

As Emrys impatiently waited for Aithusa to land, he estimated that 1,455 years had passed since he’d sent Arthur to Avalon — 531,015 days, to be exact, in which time he could have lived fourteen full lives and probably had watched over seventy-two generations come and go. 

The numbers were astounding, but what was more overwhelming to Emrys was the fact that no one who walked the earth with him knew his true identity. To everyone that came in contact with him, he was merely an old, strange man who had no friends. There was no one who knew that at one time he’d had many friends and that he had made a difference in other people’s lives. He had once laughed. He had once loved. He had once thought he had it all. 

Such a thought made Emrys want to laugh manically, or cry, but he thought he might never stop if he allowed himself that luxury. If he’d learned one thing over the years, it was that no one ever had it all. Everything good in his young life had evaporated in less than a week, replaced with the promise of lifetimes of loneliness as an old, withered man. 

Emrys, then called Merlin, had made a vow to himself and Arthur the evening after he’d said goodbye to the Once and Future King that he wouldn’t appear as Merlin again until Arthur returned. True to his word, after that day if anyone asked his name, which had happened much less than he’d expected, he told them it was Emrys.

“Emrys,” said the diminutive yet puissant dragon several minutes later, her eyes large and light, voice low and soft.

“Aithusa,” Emrys replied, his voice somewhat mournful. As excited as he was to see the dragon he’d named, he missed his wise friend, Kilgharrah. Although he hadn’t spoken to the great dragon since that fateful day so long ago, he’d thought of him often and still mourned his passing. “It has been a long time,” he added, in awe of seeing the adult Aithusa. She wasn’t nearly as big as Kilgharrah had been, but she was a sight to behold.

“Kilgharrah has long ago passed on. I know you must miss him and are wondering whether you can trust me. Am I correct, Emrys?” asked Aithusa, her eyes sad, not at all like those of Kilgharrah’s, which had been alive and all-knowing.

Emrys had to strain to hear the dragon speak. It seemed her vocal chords had never completely healed from the abuse she’d suffered at the hands of her captor, Sarrum of Amata. 

“Yes, I do miss my old friend,” he said, but he managed to replace his frown with the smallest of grins. “Every day that I’ve walked this earth I’ve sought his counsel and wisdom and have lamented the absence of his guidance. I didn’t always follow his advice and I know many of my decisions made him furious, but he never left me alone. Whenever I needed him he was there. His absence has been felt.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I want to trust you and I think I must. I have no one else, Aithusa,” and hearing his voice speaking such words reinforced to Emrys how very alone he truly was. However, he had hope in his heart. Aithusa had returned, hadn’t she? That had to mean Arthur’s time was near. Perhaps not, but Emrys had to believe that this was why Aithusa was talking to him. 

“Do you bring me the news I’ve waited so long to hear?” he asked, nervous to hear anything other than _yes_ from the white dragon. 

“I do, Emrys, for Arthur has, just this very day, been born,” Aithusa said before pausing, “but you will not see him until his thirtieth year. I tell you this now so that you can prepare and have hope. Even immortals need hope.”

“How will I know when the time has come?” Emrys asked, his heart heavy at the thought of three more decades of waiting, but at least he had his answer, and yes, he understood all too well what hope did for a person.

“As I am speaking to you now, so shall I speak to you in thirty years, Emrys. Have faith in your and Arthur’s destiny. One day soon the two of you will meet again. I should warn you, however, that Arthur is the Once and Future King and has returned for a reason. Do not think for one moment that his life will be safe from evildoers. He and you faced many foes in the past and I fear there will be more for the two of you to face in the future as you discover your destiny that the great Kilgharrah told you of. Heed my words, Emrys.”

**Thirty Years Later**

Merlin once again donned his kerchief, boots and jacket. It felt odd to once again be young and not have aches and pains every second of the day, but it was a nice change. He’d forgotten how easy the body moved at twenty-eight.

When the citadel came into view as he walked up the familiar old road that was almost completely covered with brambles and overgrown weeds, Merlin swallowed and stopped mid-stride. The last time he’d seen Camelot had been the day he left to go to the Crystal Cave. Time had changed the exterior, but it was still standing as proud as it had back in the heyday of the kingdom and the memories that came rushing forth were vivid and hurtful. Each of them was infused with the presence of Arthur. Merlin shook his head and swallowed as he stared at the castle and allowed the memories to replay in his mind. He closed his eyes and saw Arthur standing across from him, swinging a mace.

“…Excuse me, are you Merlin?” said a louder than necessary familiar voice, one that sounded exasperated, as if the speaker couldn’t be bothered.

Merlin, startled by the interruption, hid his surprise, as well as the smile he wanted to show and turned ever so slowly to face Arthur. It took every ounce of restraint he had to not reach out and touch him. He was real. Arthur was no longer merely a memory. Merlin covered his shock with a cough.

“I am. You must be Arthur,” he said, but when he tried to say more, his voice caught in his throat. So many years had passed, but it was as if not a second had gone by. The only difference Merlin noticed was that there was no familiarity and fondness in Arthur’s eyes when he looked at his former servant. That hurt, but it was no less than Merlin had expected.

“I must be,” replied Arthur, matter-of-fact, with a frown on his face. “My father told me that someone named Merlin would be taking over the upkeep of the property. He asked me to show you the grounds. He’s out of town on business until New Year’s Eve. You been here before?” he then asked, looking as if he didn’t really care one way or the other.

“A very long time ago,” was Merlin’s wistful reply, almost a whisper as he continued to stare at Arthur. This meeting wasn’t anywhere near as tense as the first meeting the two had had all those many years ago, but the princely airs were most definitely present and Merlin had an idea that the Arthur of the twenty-first century would be every bit as pompous and infuriating as he had been in the sixth century. “It’s a beautiful castle,” he said as his gaze moved to his former home, but when he heard Arthur let out a not so jovial laugh, he wondered what it meant.

“My father thinks it’s an eyesore and can’t wait to get rid of it. He says its time has passed and that we need to build something pretty, new and financially viable.”

Merlin’s entire body stiffened. They couldn’t tear it down! He nearly said as much, but stopped himself. He couldn’t, however, keep the disappointment from his face. “Your father’s going to demolish the castle?”

“Either that or sell it, but yeah, that’s his plan, but probably not anytime soon,” Arthur replied as he eyed Merlin, a look of curiosity on his face. “It seems that castles aren’t easy to get rid of these days. Too bad you don’t have the money to buy it; the look on your face when you heard of my father’s plans tells me that there’s a story to be told. I’m confident I’ll get it out of you sooner or later,” he said, a satisfied grin on his face. “I’m to show you what your duties will be and I’m not to leave you on your own for a week, so I have seven days to get the story out of you.” Blue eyes were staring into blue eyes. A challenge was set.

Once Merlin broke eye contact, which wasn’t at all easy, he was able to think clearly. He hoped he wouldn’t have to tell Arthur anything. According to Aithusa, Arthur retained all the memories of his previous life and would regain them. In order for him to do so, however, he would need help. It was ironic that to do that Merlin would have to reintroduce Arthur to his former home in the citadel by way of Arthur introducing him to a deteriorating castle that his father owned.

“Where are you staying until you can move into the castle?” asked Arthur as he retrieved his mobile and looked at it. “If you don’t have anywhere to stay, father told me to invite you to stay at the manor since it’s his fault your rooms aren’t ready,” he said, typing something before returning the mobile to his pocket.

“Thanks, but I have a room outside of Camelot; the lady said I could stay as long as I need to,” Merlin said regretfully. He’d already paid for the room and all his things, few as they might be, were there.

“As you wish, but I daresay the manor would be much more comfortable than a mank hotel room,” Arthur replied, shrugging his shoulders and looking as if Merlin’s staying in a hotel was the absolute worst idea ever. “If you change your mind, the offer stands.”

Merlin bristled. “It mightn’t be the Savoy,” he replied defensively, anger in his voice, “but as I stayed there last night and am standing before you now, I hardly think it’s going to endanger my health. Not all of us have Daddy Warbucks as their personal banker,” he spat out. When Arthur looked taken aback, Merlin shook his head and told Arthur to forget it.

“You’re a strange one, Merlin,” Arthur replied, brushing it off, “but my father liked you and wants you to oversee the goings-on of the property, so erm… yeah, you’ll be staying in the old physician’s chambers. They’ll be ready tomorrow….”

Had Merlin heard right? He would be staying in the chambers Gaius and he had shared? Whatever else Arthur said after that, Merlin couldn’t say, but he had an idea it wasn't anything important.

“Now that we have all that settled, are you ready to go do a bit of exploring?” Arthur asked, already walking towards the citadel. 

No, Merlin wasn’t ready, but he had no choice, did he? “Yeah,” he replied with a sigh, which prompted Arthur to stop and look at him strangely. Merlin grinned innocently, but he was startled when he heard a sudden loud noise. He turned towards one of the balconies and watched as several large birds flew off and swooped over him and Arthur. He couldn’t help the gasp.

“You get spooked easily, Merlin?” Arthur asked, looking entirely too smug.

It was impossible to not respond to that jab. “And if I do?” Merlin matched Arthur’s smugness.

“Well, Merlin,” Arthur said, his voice raised, “since I wouldn’t want you to get spooked, let me know if you see anyone sneaking around. With the exception of this evening when the workers are finishing your rooms, you and I are the only ones with permission to be on the property. There’s been someone trespassing over the past several days. If I’m not here and you see anyone, ring me straight away. I’ll give you my number before we leave. Oh, and I hear that fire scares the bad things away,” he added a few seconds later, softer and with a laugh.

Merlin barely acknowledged that he’d heard a word Arthur said. This Arthur was proving to be even more obnoxious than the other, and that was saying something. Merlin wanted to get in his face and tell him to shut the bloody hell up, but then the moment passed when he remembered that it was _Arthur_ who was standing near him and _Arthur_ who was talking to him. He had been dead and he had returned. After centuries of waiting, Merlin’s only wish had come true. 

He pinched himself and did a little dance inwardly as he and Arthur continued to walk towards the entrance. Smug, arrogant and entitled were words that described Arthur perfectly, but Merlin wouldn’t have him any other way, even if those traits irritated Merlin to no end.

But the urge to dance began to evaporate as Merlin allowed himself to look around and study his surroundings. It was far too quiet. There were no people walking outside as they went to and from their daily jobs, there was no sound of horses with their hooves clip-clopping on the cobblestones as the knights went about their business, there were no sentries atop the battlements and towers, there wasn’t the sound of chatter and commerce, and most deafening, there was no expectation that if Merlin entered the castle he would walk up to Arthur’s chambers and begin his daily routine.

Arthur cleared his throat and pointed to a balcony. “When I moved back after uni, a mate and I climbed up there and broke into the castle. We stayed all night exploring. I admit it’s not nearly as fun now that my father owns the place and I can go inside anytime I please.”

There was nothing to say to that, so Merlin remained silent — on the outside. On the inside he was screaming. He didn’t want to be inside the citadel he’d once lived in with Gaius, his friends and with Arthur. It was wrong. It was all so very wrong. He shouldn’t be there when everyone else was long gone.

“Hey, Dollophead, where’d you drift off to?” asked Arthur, waving a hand in front of Merlin’s face.

“Wha—what?” Merlin didn’t even try to hide his reaction. “What did you just call me?” He had to control his breathing. Arthur was remembering. He had to be.

“You heard me,” Arthur said as if he were talking to a child. Then he began walking towards the nearest set of doors. “I’ve got to be somewhere at half six, so we don’t have all day,” he added huffily.

“Yes, Sire,” Merlin shouted, his sarcasm evident, and when Arthur turned around and said something too low to be heard, Merlin gave his most innocent grin (he had forgotten how much he’d done that as Arthur’s servant). He couldn’t help but let out a laugh. He hadn’t meant to say that, but perhaps it was good that he had done. It was another hint, wasn’t it? Arthur shook his head and returned his attention to the doors ahead.

Merlin followed like a good little servant, though he couldn’t help but turn towards the drawbridge that led to the training grounds. He both couldn’t wait and dreaded to see them. Images of the past flashed before his eyes and he closed them, but when he heard his name shouted out, he decided he’d dallied long enough. 

He ran and caught up to Arthur, who was walking up the staircase — a staircase that Merlin had tread up and down so many times that he knew he could traverse it with his eyes closed. He steeled himself for what was to come, but the complete silence that met him was truly overwhelming and a heavy weight settled over him.

Arthur was back, but the citadel that the two of them had nurtured and loved was gone. It was little more than a faint echo of a glorious past, ruins that people would look at with romantic notions of a time long gone.

”You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Merlin,” Arthur said as he took the steps two at a time, looking and acting as if he hadn’t a care in the world. 

“More than one,” Merlin whispered, but he knew Arthur heard him. Merlin followed him up the steps then turned down the corridor that would lead them to Arthur’s chambers.

Merlin stopped and turned away. He didn’t want to go any further, but when he turned and looked at Arthur, who was entering his old chambers, Merlin knew he hadn’t a choice. He had waited over 1400 years. No matter what faced him, he had to go forward. To have a future he would have to relive his past. It was a sobering and rather devastating thought, but if that was what he had to do, then so be it.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled.

When Merlin stepped foot into the chambers he had come to know so well, he could so clearly see Arthur as he had been that last day they’d been in this chamber — the day Arthur had called him a coward. Merlin forced a smile as he watched Arthur walk to the window and open it. Every detail about Arthur was the same. Every. Single. One. Merlin brought his hand to his mouth and mouthed thank you. He didn’t know to whom he was saying it and he didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was so very thankful to no longer be alone.

Arthur then rubbed his arse and let out a derisive laugh as he looked down towards the ground. “Hm, I thought there were rocks down there. Good to know someone put down grass. Much softer to fall on.”

This time Merlin didn’t have to conceal his reaction at Arthur’s memory of when he had been dropped to the ground (yes, with Merlin’s help) the night they’d gone after Gwen. “You sound as if you know that from personal experience,” Merlin said as he walked over to where Arthur stood and looked outside.

“I’ve fallen out of my window before,” said Arthur, a ghost of a smile on his face when he looked at Merlin. “A friend and I had to help someone and I was unable to leave by normal means.”

“And you live in a castle, do you?” Merlin asked cheekily, feeling very much like the Merlin of old. If Arthur was going to be haughty then Merlin would be cheeky. He had, after all, perfected the art when he’d last served the prat.

“Haha. You think you’re funny, do you?” Arthur walked over to where his bed had been and scratched the back of his head as he looked at Merlin. “I have the weirdest feeling that I’ve been here before,” he said, grimacing as soon as the words left his mouth.

All Merlin could do was laugh, but only on the inside. Arthur was close. Very close. “You told me you and your mate broke into the castle. You probably came here.” Arthur shook his head and looked perplexed as he grabbed his head and scrunched his face in pain. “You okay?” Merlin asked, knowing that Arthur was most assuredly not okay.

“Yeah, just getting a headache. I’ll be fine.”

That response hadn’t been at all convincing and Merlin thought Arthur looked ill, like he might retch. Were his returning memories making him sick? Merlin didn’t want to add to that, but he had little choice.

Aithusa had told him it was up to him to help Arthur remember, and her only _instruction_ had been that he couldn’t under any circumstance tell Arthur who either of them had been. Maybe it was time for Merlin to begin his efforts in earnest. 

“I have dreams sometimes that seem familiar. My mother once told me we dream about things we did in a previous life.” That said, Merlin walked to the door he’d once used whenever he needed to appear or leave without being seen. He grinned at the thought of how many times Arthur had thrown things at him as he’d left after one of their famous exchanges. “A servant’s door. I bet the person who used this chamber was a spoiled, pompous cabbagehead.” 

Merlin was looking towards the ground, but he turned and peered at Arthur through his eyelashes. He thought he detected a reaction, but he couldn’t be sure. Arthur was worrying his bottom lip and looked bothered. Merlin understood the feeling.

Several seconds passed before Arthur let out a brief laugh. “And I bet his servant was a cheeky dollophead who didn’t know his place.” He then looked directly at Merlin. “Don’t you think?” But then a second later he doubled over, grabbed his forehead with his hands and let out an anguished cry.

Merlin rushed over to him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, fearful. Only when Arthur looked up at him did Merlin realise he might have overreacted more than he should have. “Sorry, you just look really pale.”

“My head feels as if it’s about to explode. It just came on when we were talking about the door,” Arthur groused out, gritting his teeth. “I don’t feel so good,” he then said as he walked to the window and leaned against it.

“We should call it a day. You need to go home and rest.” Merlin didn’t want to do that at all, but Arthur couldn’t continue as he was. Merlin closed the widow, helped Arthur down the stairs, and then he took the keys and locked up the citadel. “You look like crap. You’re not driving anywhere in that condition. I’ll drive you home.”

Arthur didn’t look happy and argued with Merlin, but he finally gave in when Merlin refused to give him his keys back. “I guess Robert can bring my car to me this evening after he and his men finish working on your rooms.”

Merlin smirked.

Thirty minutes later, when Merlin turned into the driveway leading to Arthur’s family’s manor, his mouth opened in awe. It wasn’t a castle, but it might as well have been. It was bloody huge.

“That’s pretty much how all my mates reacted the first time they saw it. My father is many things, but humble is not among them,” Arthur said. He looked somewhat apologetic. “He likes to show his wealth and he does so as ostentatiously as possible. That’s one reason I decided to move out. He wasn’t happy and bribes me with money to stay here when he’s on his business trips. I guess I’ve nothing to complain about, yet I do, all the time,” Arthur said, a smirk on his face.

Merlin had to bite his tongue not to reply and give Arthur some advice. If he had even a slice of what Arthur had he’d never complain. A few seconds later he stopped the car and turned to Arthur. “What time do you want me to start tomorrow?”

“Half nine. Oh, here’s my number.” Arthur pulled a business card and pen from his pocket and wrote something on it, then handed it to Merlin.

**~*~**

When Merlin parked in front of the castle and got out of his car, he was unsurprised to see that Arthur hadn’t yet arrived. He had an idea that the former king and current spoiled rich kid (not at all a kid, but he was rich and the _rich kid_ moniker sounded better in Merlin’s mind than _rich man_ ) lived on a schedule of his own making. “Oh, Arthur, you told me to never change and I see that you took your own advice. Thanks for that,” he said, meaning every word. Seeing the citadel and going inside had shown him how very different things were, so Merlin wanted Arthur to be the same. He needed that so very badly.

He waited for about five minutes, but then decided to get out and do some looking around on his own. Just because he couldn’t get inside didn’t mean he couldn’t explore the grounds. Perhaps it was time for him to go to the training grounds, a place he'd spent a majority of his time as Arthur’s servant. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but when had anything ever been easy for him?

Ten minutes later he sat in what remained of the grandstands where the residents of Camelot had sat during the various competitions. His eyes went to the area where the jousting tournaments had taken place and his mind took him back over a thousand years as he watched Arthur and his horse approaching his opponent. Merlin closed his eyes and heard himself cheering as his master’s lance was raised and then as it made contact with the target. The crowd around him roared.

When the noises of the excited crowds morphed into deafening silence, Merlin slowly opened his eyes and came back to the present. The absence of noise was made all the more real by the emptiness that surrounded him. He sat there a few minutes more before he stood. His eyes scanned the field where the tents had once stood. He shook his head, took a deep breath and turned to head towards the citadel.

When he heard his name, he nodded, ready for another day. He wasn’t looking forward to the following week, when he would be living in the citadel on his own, but at least he had six more days with Arthur. Surely that would be plenty of time to help him get his memories back.

“That’s my favorite part of the property,” Arthur said as Merlin made his way towards the entrance. “Whenever I need to clear my mind and think I go sit in those old stands.”

If Merlin needed to think, that would be the last place he’d go. “How are you feeling this morning? Still have a headache?” he asked, thinking that Arthur didn’t look that great.

“Not feeling the best, but I’ve been worse. I’m afraid I have some not so good news for you, however,” and Arthur looked genuinely distressed.

Bad news? What news could possibly be worse than what Merlin had already been through? Not one single thing. He said nothing.

“It seems my father has found a buyer for the property and will soon be rid of it.” Again, Arthur looked none too pleased.

“When?” Merlin’s mind raced. He had waited so long for Arthur and this had been his chance. Life surely wouldn’t be so cruel as to rip Arthur from his grasp when he’d only just found him.

“Next month. Normally it would take months for a transaction such as this to be completed, but this man has impressive connections. From what Father’s told me he lives in Scotland. He sent a representative to meet with my father in Manchester yesterday. I wonder if he’s the one who’s been sneaking around the property the past few days. Wouldn’t surprise me.”

Nothing else for it, Merlin shrugged his shoulders. “Looks like you won’t need me for long.” To say he felt ill was a vast understatement.

“Actually, the man who met with Father said Mr de Bois is looking for someone to live on the premises. Father told him about you and that I was coming to see you at the castle today if he wanted to come meet with you. He seemed interested in procuring your services, so I expect he’ll stop by at some point today. Erm, Merlin, are you okay?” Arthur asked, looking at him worriedly, no doubt noticing that Merlin’s face was losing its colour.

No, Merlin was not okay. Logically, he knew there were probably numerous people in the world with the surname de Bois, but realistically, him being who he was, Merlin knew this couldn’t be a coincidence. He swallowed. “You didn’t happen to catch the first name of the man who wants to buy the property, did you?” Merlin swallowed.

“Agravaine. You know him? Your face is white. Pale as a ghost white.”

What could Merlin say? Should he say anything? If this person was the same Agravaine, there was only one way he was accomplishing this, or at least there was only one way that Merlin was aware of. Could Agravaine have come back as a wraith? And, if he had, how had he done it? The person working with him had to have magic. That was the only way.

Merlin hoped he was wrong. Perhaps he was; he’d always allowed his imagination to run away with him, after all. Regardless, he needed to tell Arthur. “The name sounds familiar. I don’t think you can trust him, Arthur. I wish I could tell you why, but I can’t. Not yet,” he said instead.

“If he’s dangerous, Merlin, I need to know. Is he dangerous? Tell me.”

Merlin nodded. “If he’s who I think he is? He is very dangerous, Arthur.”

“Then we must tell my father straight away. The information about where he’s staying is at the manor. Hop in my car; we’ll go now.”

To say Merlin was surprised at Arthur’s level of concern was an understatement. Since when had he ever listened to Merlin and done as he suggested the first time he’d said anything? Apparently _now_ would be when. Merlin watched Arthur climb into his car and close the door.

“We don’t have all day, Merlin!”

“I’m coming!” he said as he ran the few meters between him and the car. He reached out to open the door handle, but before he could open it, a blast blew him off his feet and he was suddenly being propelled through the air. He landed hard and heard bones and ribs crack. Then he felt as something was poured on him. He couldn’t see clearly for a few seconds. When he could finally see again, albeit only blurry images, he watched a person in a black cloak disappear into the forest. Only then could he feel the crackling of magic — it was all around him. The person who had done this was powerful. 

He tried sitting up, but couldn’t move. Neither could he breathe with ease. He could, however, see Arthur and the look of horror on his face. Merlin could tell he was trying to move, but something must have been holding him back. Nothing visible that Merlin could see, but it had to be something magical. Merlin tried to speak, but couldn’t. Then he felt pain ripping through his body and he thought for sure that his next breath would be the final one he took. 

The last thing he heard before he drifted into oblivion was someone screaming his name at the top of their lungs, and it reminded Merlin of another time he’d heard that very scream — he’d been injured and Arthur had been taking him to safety when they’d been separated by an avalanche of large rocks. The terror in Arthur’s voice would never leave him.

**~*~**

When Merlin regained consciousness, the first thing he noticed was that he was lying in a large bed, but it wasn’t in his hotel room and the huge, opulent room didn’t look familiar. The second thing he became aware of was the intense pain shooting through his body. He breathed in and out a few times and heard himself groaning. There wasn’t one part of his body that wasn’t hurting. He attempted to sit up but was gently pushed back down.

“Oh no you don’t, Merlin,” said Arthur, his face mere inches from Merlin’s.

“What happened?” Merlin somehow managed to ask, his throat on fire and his mind fuzzy. He attempted to sit up and again was stopped.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, voice shaking, his face pale as he settled Merlin back down and covered him. “Shh don’t try to talk. You were attacked by someone with magic; they didn’t hurt me but they prevented me from getting to you. And erm, you should know that I remember. _Everything_ ,” he said, letting out a nervous laugh as he reached over and picked up the flannel from the bowl on the bedside table, then began gently wiping the blood from Merlin’s cheeks. “I was almost too afraid to touch you. You screamed from the time of the attack until you passed out. I got to you as soon as I could.”

Merlin looked around at his surroundings before turning back towards Arthur. Had he just said he remembered? “You remember?” asked Merlin, in barely more than a whisper. He fervently hoped he wasn’t hallucinating, but he felt badly enough that anything was possible.

“Yes,” replied Arthur as he ran the cloth over Merlin’s chin and removed more blood and dirt.

There was so much Merlin wanted to say, to ask, to tell Arthur, but he could barely breathe and the words wouldn’t come. He lifted his hand and covered Arthur’s as it continued cleaning off blood, dirt and what looked like grass, but when he again attempted to speak, he couldn’t. He grimaced before mouthing “Arthur.”

Arthur nodded, looking somewhat overwhelmed as his focus shifted to the hand covering his. “It’s really me.”

Attempting to grin, and failing miserably, Merlin removed his hand and closed his eyes as another wave of pain lanced through his body. The pain was unbearable and seemed to be getting worse. Whatever had been done to him was bad. Merlin knew he needed help and that there was only one other who would be able to provide that help. Merlin needed to make Arthur, who looked panicked, understand what he needed. “I need to go. Can’t breathe,” Merlin forced out, although he was unsure if he’d been understood. He lifted his hand to Arthur’s chest, but he felt himself losing the battle to stay awake.

He could hear Arthur shouting at him, asking him what he should do and telling him he was going to be fine. Merlin didn’t think so. He felt Arthur’s hands holding onto his, pleading with him not to leave him. Merlin didn’t want to, but he didn’t think he had a choice. It was just too bad he’d waited almost fifteen centuries only to succumb one day after finding Arthur again.

With all his strength, he called out to Aithusa to come help him, but he didn’t hear any sound. He tried again but had no strength left. Everything went dark.

The next time Merlin awoke, he immediately noticed that, although he was still in tremendous pain, it was nowhere near as great as it had been. Arthur was sitting on the bed, staring at him as if he were dead. Merlin managed a grin. “Not dead. You don’t have to look so sad.” He was rewarded with less of a frown, but Arthur still looked rattled. Merlin understood. For at least a minute, the two stared at one another. Merlin felt so many emotions and he could feel his facial expressions as they morphed from one to another.

“So not only are you a sorcerer, but you’re also the last Dragon Lord? You are just full of surprises, Merlin,” Arthur finally said, looking towards the window. “It seems you called your dragon friend. Scared the bloody hell out of me, but lucky for you I knew she had come for you. Why else would a dragon come to my window in 2015?”

“Her name’s Aithusa,” Merlin said as he pushed himself up so that he was leaning against the headboard. He squeezed his eyes closed as another pain seared through his back, but shook his head when Arthur tried to push him back down. “Pillows,” he said, gritting his teeth as his back continued to spasm. Arthur grabbed the pillows and propped him up with them. Merlin took a deep breath and once the pain passed, opened his eyes and looked at Arthur. “Are you okay?” he asked as he let out a derisive laugh. Neither of them was at all okay; that was as obvious as his ears.

“I’m fighting fit. Don’t worry about me, Merlin. It’s you I’m worried about. I’m fine.”

Merlin doubted that very much. Arthur looked like he’d seen a ghost. He had to be in shock, which he had every right to be. He’d just remembered that he’d been a king in a former life that had been over 1400 years ago. But then Merlin swallowed. Had Arthur remembered everything? He’d said he remembered everything, but how would he know if he hadn’t? “We have much to discuss,” Merlin said softly. “We are i—”

“You need rest, Merlin,” Arthur interrupted. He wetted the flannel he’d used earlier and wiped off Merlin’s forehead. “You are burning up with fever. Aithusa said you would get better, but that it would take time. We don’t need to talk now.”

If only that were true. Merlin wished nothing more than to fall into a deep sleep; he was sore and felt as if every ounce of strength had been sapped from him. As they were in danger, however, he shook his head. “This can’t wait, Arthur. We’re in danger. I need to tell you why, but first I need for you to tell me what you remember.”

“What exactly do you need to know?” asked Arthur, looking uncomfortable. “I remember everything.”

“Whatever you want to tell me. I just need to know. I’m sorry,” Merlin added, and he really was. He could see the emotions flickering through Arthur’s eyes and on his face and he saw the sadness in his eyes. Was he even the least bit happy?

Merlin had waited years to see Arthur again, but he’d never stopped to think that when Arthur finally saw him that he might not be at all happy and that he might rather have stayed wherever he had been. Merlin looked away and finally felt the beginnings of what would turn into tears if he allowed them.

Arthur stood and walked to the window, then turned towards Merlin. “I remember that last day, Merlin. I remember you yelling my name. I remember the despair in your voice. I remember the feeling of inconsolable grief when I could no longer open my eyes and look into yours.

“I remember happiness. I remember my father telling me he was proud of me and I remember this cheeky young bloke who thought he could tell me what to do. 

“I remember sadness. I remember nearly dying because of the Questing Beast. I remember you nearly dying at Nimueh’s hands. I remember the despondency I felt when we found out Morgana had defected and betrayed us. I remember the mind-numbing grief I experienced after losing my father. I remember feeling helpless and alone when you nearly died because of the Dorocha. I remember the outrage I felt when I realized Agravaine had been working with Morgana. I remember the feeling of fear I had when Mordred’s sword went through me.

“And through it all, Merlin, you were there, my faithful and loyal servant. I didn’t deserve you, yet that never mattered to you. You put your life in danger to save mine, over and over again.”

Arthur turned towards the window and said nothing more.

“Did Aithusa tell you anything else other than that I would get better with time?” Merlin then asked, feeling completely horrid. Arthur had just shared intensely private memories with him and his response was to ask a seemingly unrelated question. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I know this is unfair of me to ask all these questions, but it’s important.” He was only somewhat heartened when Arthur nodded.

“She said that you would know what needed to be done and that there was only one way,” was Arthur’s faint reply. He sounded as if his thoughts were miles away. “Tell me this, Merlin. How is it that my uncle could be here? I understand about you and I even understand about me, but what about Agravaine?” Arthur turned around, his eyes red. He cleared his throat, walked back to the bed, and sat beside Merlin, who was once again lying down. “Please explain it to me so I can understand.”

The sadness on Arthur’s face had Merlin swallowing and forbidding himself to allow his tears to fall. “I can’t be sure, but I think he’s probably a wraith, Arthur. Someone has brought him back to life. It’s not really him, of course, but it’s his soul. I guess he could have been reincarnated, but that just doesn’t make sense. Why would anyone as bad as him have the pleasure of walking this earth for centuries?” Merlin spat out facetiously, as if walking the earth forever was some kind of a reward.

“So, if you’re right, then there’s someone else out there who brought him back. I thought magic had been wiped out years ago,” replied Arthur. He looked genuinely perplexed.

Merlin shook his head. “Arthur, magic has been around forever and will never be eliminated. I have it, you were born with its help and many others today have it. They might not know it, but it’s there.”

“Then we have no recourse,” said Arthur as he looked up at the ceiling. When he looked back at Merlin, he seemed to think about his words before he spoke “What if Agravaine wants to harm you again, Merlin? He nearly had you killed. I guess you probably can’t die since you’ve been around for all these years, but seeing you so hurt nearly gave me a heart attack. I do not want to face that ever again,” Arthur said with authority.

Merlin let out a laugh. “Yes, Sire!” 

“I’m not joking, Merlin. I won’t go through that again.”

“Believe me, Arthur, I would rather not go through that again, but if Agravaine has been brought back as a wraith, you should know that it is to kill us. There is only one way for him to accomplish that, however, and that is by using a sword forged in dragon’s breath. The sword Mordred used to kill you was such a sword, so I am guessing Morgana found it and someone else knew to retrieve it once she died.”

Arthur brought a hand to his chest, where the sword had pierced his chest, and massaged it. “It hardly seems possible that magic was all around me and I knew nothing of it. What a fool I was,” Arthur said as he watched Merlin turning over onto his side.

“You’re no fool, Arthur,” Merlin said as he attempted to get comfortable. He never quite found that place, but he’d found that by looking at Arthur and concentrating on him, his pain seemed less intense. Several seconds later he placed his hand over Arthur’s, which was still massaging the place the sword had penetrated his body, but he removed it just as quickly when Arthur’s breath hitched. “But, I did tell you that I had magic the one time and I think you said there was no way I was a sorcerer. I guess I should be pleased you didn’t believe me. Your father would have had my head chopped off.” The thought made Merlin shudder. “Your father hated magic, Arthur. I can hardly blame you for ignoring its existence, but now you can’t and we have to deal with it, and the only thing that will save us against a sword forged with dragon’s breath is the sword that I threw into the lake when I sent you to Avalon. It was also forged in dragon’s breath and will kill a wraith. It will kill anything, immortal or mortal.”

Merlin noticed the shocked look on Arthur’s face and realised that what he’d just told Arthur had probably been too much to take in. He opened his mouth to explain, but then a sharp pain ripped through his back and he squeezed his eyes shut again. “I need to tell you more about the sword, but I think I need to rest now,” he managed to say between jolts of pain. 

He felt Arthur’s hands on him, rubbing circles on his back and, much to his relief, it helped and Merlin felt himself relaxing and getting closer to sleep. He didn’t want to rest, but his body had told him he had no choice and Merlin knew that the more he rested the better he would get and the sooner they could go look for the sword.

“Sleep, Merlin. You’ll be safe and you can tell me about the sword after you get some rest.”

Merlin couldn’t be sure, but he thought that as he drifted off to sleep he felt Arthur’s hair tickle his forehead.

**~*~**

Two days later, Merlin was well enough to travel, but his body was far from healed. He sat in the passenger seat and stared at Arthur as he brought out the last of the provisions they would need for their trip to Avalon. It was still an overwhelming feeling to know that the person he was looking at had known him all those many years ago.

If Merlin were to allow it, everything would be too much for him, but thus far he really hadn’t had time to process any of it. Truth be told, he’d been sleeping most of the time, and each time he’d opened his eyes, Arthur was there, looking at him as if he were the dearest thing on earth to him. Merlin would never tire of that look.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable, Merlin? You should probably lie down in the back. I can put down some blankets,” Arthur said, leaning into the car on the driver’s side.

Merlin shook his head. “I need to get my strength back. Whatever was done to me was powerful, but Aithusa did whatever she needed to do and you’ve taken good care of me, Arthur. I’m okay. Really,” he added, needing Arthur to believe him.

“You’re not even close to okay, Merlin. Don’t lie to me,” said Arthur, glaring as he removed his arms from the car and stood as he opened the door. “We’re only going now because I know how important this is, but I don’t like it. You are in no condition to travel.”

Merlin let out a bitter laugh. “Why do you think they attacked me? They knew I’d be weakened and unable to go for the sword. Unfortunately for them, I don’t take no for an answer, do I?” Merlin gave Arthur another one of his innocent grins.

“You can say that again,” Arthur said under his breath as he sat down and started the motor. “You win, but tell me if you start feeling bad.” When Merlin nodded, Arthur closed his door and turned on the heater. He put his hands on the wheel, but then reached a hand over and felt Merlin’s forehead. “Your fever’s spiked again.”

“Stop it, I’ll be fine,” Merlin replied through gritted teeth as he glared, but he felt only slightly better than death warmed up and it took him little time to fall asleep.

When he next woke, he turned to look at Arthur and noticed that he looked tired. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Three hours.” Arthur again reached over and felt Merlin’s forehead. “Better.”

“Thanks, Mother,” was Merlin’s surly reply.

“You might be immortal, Merlin, but that doesn’t make it impossible for you to suffer, and you might hate me for being overbearing, but I can’t help it. You’re not leaving me here to do this by myself. And you know that your mother would expect no less of me. She would want me to care for you and make sure you don’t overdo it.”

The reference to his mother had hurt and Merlin saw that Arthur realised what he’d said. Merlin shook his head. “It’s okay. You’re right and I know she wouldn’t want us to do this alone.”

A few minutes later Arthur turned to Merlin. “Why now? Why did we come back now?” he asked.

That was a question Merlin had asked himself many times. Unfortunately, there wasn’t an answer. He had been told Arthur would return when Albion’s need was greatest.

There were no longer five kingdoms that would have made up Albion. What could he and Arthur possibly do to improve anything? Merlin sighed. “I wish I had an answer. I guess we’re meant to kill Agravaine and whoever brought him back, but then I don’t know.”

**~*~**

Merlin heard his name being called. It took him a few seconds, but he slowly opened his eyes. Blinking a few times and looking around, he swallowed and turned to Arthur. They were at the lake that led to Avalon.

He began to shake. It was that day all over again and he could see Arthur lying there. He turned towards the window; he didn’t want Arthur to see how being at the lake was affecting him.

Arthur reached over and turned Merlin towards him. “Hey, it’s okay, we’re going to get the sword and kill Agravaine. You’re safe.” Arthur wiped a tear from beneath Merlin’s eye.

All Merlin could do was nod, but the tears didn’t stop. How could he tell Arthur that it wasn’t Agravaine and his safety that caused the tears? What words could he use to explain to Arthur that being back at the place where he’d sent Arthur away was just about killing him?

Several minutes later he heard Arthur opening his door and stepping out. Merlin wiped away more tears, but he couldn’t force himself to open his door and get out. When his door opened a few seconds later and a hand reached for his, Merlin took it and he slowly got out of the car. He hung his head and attempted to gather himself.

“I’m sorry that you had to send me away, Merlin, and I’m sorry you’ve had to wait all these years for me to return. You carried a burden no one should have to and I wish I could take away all your pain. I wish I could make it mine,” Arthur said as he let go of Merlin and grabbed a blanket from the backseat.

Merlin tried valiantly to curb the fresh onslaught of tears, but then he let them fall freely. It was too much to comprehend. Everything from the past few days caught up with him and he allowed himself the luxury of not caring what Arthur thought. Merlin needed to cry and that was that, but several minutes later when he wiped his eyes with his shirtsleeve and saw Arthur looking at him worriedly, he cleared his throat. “Yeah, you can say it. I’m such a girl.”

But Arthur merely sighed. “I really was an arse back then, wasn’t I?”

“Among other things,” Merlin replied with a small smile.

“Sorry about that,” Arthur replied sincerely. “I don’t think that’s changed much in my current incarnation.”

A smirk was Merlin’s immediate response. At least Arthur knew himself. “But if you hadn’t been such an arse, then maybe you wouldn’t have needed me.”

Ten minutes later they stood at the edge of the lake. Merlin searched the shore; the last time he’d needed to retrieve the sword from the lake a boat had been waiting for him. What were the chances he’d be as lucky this time?

“There,” said Arthur.

Merlin turned to see where Arthur was pointing and looked, but he didn’t see anything. “Where?” he asked, frustrated.

“Turn to your left,” Arthur replied.

“What time?” Merlin asked when he didn’t see anything, but Arthur looked at him with raised brows. “Oh, right, you lot don’t use those kind of clocks.” Arthur continued to stare at him as if he’d lost his mind. Merlin grinned before he returned his gaze to the lake. Finally he saw it. He began walking towards it but had to stop when a pain rent through his head. He bent over and grabbed his knees to stop the dizziness that overwhelmed him.

“I’ll get the boat and go for the sword. Is there anything I need to ask for the sword to come to me?” asked Arthur as he walked over to Merlin and knelt so he could see his face.

Merlin slowly stood up straight and blinked a few times. He didn’t think Arthur getting the sword was a good idea, but he had to admit that he was in no condition to do so himself. If the sword refused to appear for Arthur, then he would go retrieve it. “The boat will take you to where you need to go and the sword should be raised out of the water for you to grab.”

Once Arthur was in the boat, Merlin wished he was there with him. He trusted Arthur to reacquire the sword, but in the past he’d been the one to repossess it for Arthur. Old habits were hard to break.

When the boat stopped in the middle of the lake, Merlin watched as Arthur leaned over the other side of the boat and then lifted the sword up so Merlin could see it.

Several minutes later Arthur stepped out of the boat and approached Merlin, who was sitting on a blanket that was spread out on the ground, holding his head. “You don’t look good at all,” he said. He set down the sword in front of Merlin. “I could tell it was a girl’s arm that lifted the sword out of the water. Do you know who she is?” asked Arthur, staring at the sword in awe.

“Yeah, her name’s Freya,” said Merlin, a smile on his face, but it turned to a frown and he shrugged his shoulders. Perhaps one day he’d tell Arthur the story.

**~*~**

“So you were the one who sent the light,” Arthur said as he unlocked the door to the citadel. “You were nearly dead from poison, yet you found the strength to help me.” Arthur then turned, looking amazed. “Thank you for that. I was about to be overtaken by an army of arachnids or whatever those creatures were.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to risk your life for a lowly servant boy, yet you did. The least I could do was help you.”

“I was afraid I’d been too late,” Arthur said as he turned left.

Merlin entered the door of Gaius and his former chambers and followed Arthur inside. There were several other places he wanted to see, but Arthur had thought they should stop in these chambers first as it was where Merlin would be staying, at least for the next month. 

There was little left that resembled the main chamber that Merlin had shared with Gaius — the room was opulently furnished and decorated — but as he walked into his former chamber, he felt as if he was transported back in time.

There was a bed where his old one had been — much nicer, of course — but there was little else in the room. He walked to the window and looked out. The view was vastly different from what it had been; there were no small houses with smoke rising out of the chimneys dotting the landscape.

“I want to go beneath the castle,” Arthur said from the doorway. “I need to see my father and the others. I don’t know if they’d be there, but I need to know. You don’t have to go, but I need to. Merlin? Do you hear a word I’m saying?” an exasperated Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded, but said nothing for a minute or so as he continued to stare out at the empty land before him that had once been a bustling village. Finally he turned. “Let’s go. I want to see if Gaius is there.”

The cells were as far as they were able to explore, but Arthur told Merlin he was confident that his father would get them in when he returned. Arthur walked to one of the deteriorating cells and placed his hands on the bars as he turned towards Merlin. “There were many times I didn’t understand my father, but I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when I found him down here after Morgana took him prisoner. He looked so lost. Morgana broke his heart.”

“Yeah,” Merlin answered as he thought about how he could have avoided all of that had he only allowed her to die after she’d fallen down the stairs. If he’d only known. He took a shaky breath. “I could have prevented it all,” he muttered.

“Don’t, Merlin. Don’t go there. It won’t change anything.”

Merlin left the cells and heard Arthur following him. He really should have replied, but what was there to say? That a day hadn’t gone by since he’d sent Arthur away that he hadn’t despaired over his choices? No, he knew that it was best to ignore Arthur’s attempts to minimise the enormity of his former servant’s mistakes.

Merlin needed air but instead found himself walking outside and past the statue of the knight and the horse. He could hear Arthur following him. Although he knew he shouldn’t go there, Merlin needed to see Arthur’s chambers again. Arthur would remember them as his and that was important to Merlin. As difficult as it would be for the both of them, Merlin needed to see that recognition.

He turned when he no longer heard Arthur following him and watched as Arthur sat on the bottom step and put his head in his hands. Merlin thought about going to him, but decided against it. He continued on and found himself standing at the window in Arthur’s former chambers.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there before Arthur entered, but when he did, Merlin turned and smiled sadly at him. “Your father can’t ever sell this place. What did he say when you told him about Agravaine?” Merlin watched as Arthur turned and studied the room.

“He wasn’t convinced; I’m afraid he is going to need more proof,” Arthur said as he walked over to the hearth and ran a hand over it. He let out a deep breath. “I could only tell him so much, Merlin. He has no idea magic even exists.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think that my word alone would make a difference. Some things never change. Once a servant, always a servant, I guess. My word will never mean anything to anyone,” Merlin spat out, irritated.

When Arthur turned to face Merlin, his face was red. “Oh, so I don’t matter? Thanks, Merlin. You know how to make a bloke feel good don’t you? With one exception, I valued your word and your loyalty above all others. I’m sorry my father doesn’t, but he doesn’t know you, does he? If he did and if he knew what the two of us had been through, I’m quite sure he’d not ask questions before he tore Agravaine to shreds without the help of the sword forged in dragon’s breath.”

When Merlin mouthed he was sorry, Arthur gave a curt nod, but then smiled. “You are no longer my servant, Merlin, and I don’t ever want to hear you talking that way about yourself again. I know I contributed to your feelings and I’m sorry, but this is a new day; we’ve both grown up, yes?”

A nod was all Merlin could manage. The lump in his throat prevented anything further.

“I have the sword, Merlin. Agravaine doesn’t stand a chance,” and as if to add emphasis to what he’d said, Arthur stepped back several paces, removed the sword from its scabbard and gave it his signature twirl. “Do you miss your days of training with me?” he asked cheekily as he grinned.

Did Merlin miss training with Arthur? Only every second of every day. His face broke out into what he knew was probably the biggest smile he’d managed since he’d been hurt. At the time, when Arthur was training for real to prepare for battle, Merlin had loathed it, but all these many years later, he would give anything and everything to be back in that time and do whatever Arthur asked of him. “More than you could ever imagine, Arthur. I have done and will do many things for you, including train with you, but I don’t miss my head being bashed within a helmet day after day. Today they would say I’d suffered concussions. The things we do for our masters,” he finished with a shake of the head.

Arthur opened his mouth to respond, but there was a noise from below. “Stay here, Merlin. If anything happens to me, call my father. Here’s my mobile.” Arthur walked over to Merlin, took the shaking hand in his and placed the mobile within. “Have faith, Merlin. I can do this,” he said, his eyes piercing those of Merlin’s.

All Merlin could do was nod and stare in wonder. Did Arthur really think that he would stay behind? There was no way he thought that. Merlin let out a sigh and when he watched Arthur walk out of the room, he followed. He made sure he was a good distance behind, but shadowed him as he walked down the circular staircase and made his way into the throne room, where Agravaine, in his battle armour, but recognizable nonetheless, was waiting, his back to them. 

Merlin hid himself behind a tatty curtain and watched through the threadbare material as Agravaine turned and faced Arthur, ready to fight. But then he stepped back and put out a hand, as if inviting Arthur to speak. Well, that’s what Merlin thought, anyway.

“How dare you, or should I say how dare whoever called you from the grave,” Arthur said, anger on his face and in his voice. “My uncle betrayed me, betrayed his family when he went against me. I trusted him and he was very nearly my ruin. It is with a heavy heart that I stand here, knowing someone has manipulated your body and soul, but if you think that will prevent me from killing you, you are sadly mistaken. 

“I know my uncle always had it in for me and my family, but what did Merlin ever do to him? All he ever wanted was to bring magic back and let everyone know that it could be used for good. He had nothing against my uncle or Morgana. If you or he or whoever you are wants to go after anyone, I was and am that person. Leave Merlin out of it!” shouted Arthur, his body apoplectic for a brief interlude before he lifted his sword.

Arthur made the first move and Agravaine began attacking relentlessly; he didn’t let up for one second and Merlin knew the brother of Arthur’s mother was not only doing this because of what had been done to him. This was about vengeance — his nephew had lived whilst his sister hadn’t. 

Merlin was scared. Every parry, contre quarte and high line attack Agravaine made frightened him, but he remembered what Arthur had said about him having faith, and he repeated to himself over and over that yes, he had all the faith in the world that Arthur could do this. He always had.

Ten harrowing minutes later, Agravaine’s body was no more; the sword had done its job once again and Merlin couldn’t help but gasp. Arthur turned towards him, quite obviously unhappy to see that he hadn’t done as asked.

“You are a horrible liar and an even worse sneak, Merlin. Come on, let’s go home.”

“Bu—” Merlin stopped mid-sentence and decided not to say anything. He’d been about to huffily reply to Arthur by saying that he’d hidden his magic from him for years, but then Arthur just had to go and say _let’s go home_. Where exactly was that? Merlin wanted to know.

As they were leaving, Merlin stopped. “Wait, Arthur,” he said as he turned to him and chose his words carefully. He wasn’t sure why, but he needed to go to Morgana’s chambers. “You’re going to think I’m mental, but I want to go see Morgana’s rooms.” He expected Arthur to protest, but instead he led the way.

“Tell me, Merlin, did you fancy her? Tell me the truth,” Arthur coaxed as he stopped walking and looked over his shoulder. “You’d be a fool if you didn’t.”

“No,” Merlin said and he shook his head for emphasis. “She was the Lady Morgana. I was the lowly servant to Prince Arthur. I knew where I stood and, if you remember, you told me someone like me could never be with someone like her.” Merlin shrugged his shoulders and wasn’t disappointed to see that Arthur looked abashed.

“As true as that statement was at the time, Merlin, I regret those words, but as things turned out, it’s good that you never fancied her once you found out she had magic. I shudder to think what she would have done to you.”

“You care. How chivalrous of you,” said Merlin as he bowed deeply and rolled his eyes.

“Well, I did. I always worried about what girl would win your heart.” Arthur looked uncomfortable and began walking again. “You did tell me, did you not, that you managed to get yourself in some sticky situations?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I didn’t know it had anything to do with magic, but even then I knew you needed looking after.” He then looked back over his shoulder and stared at Merlin for several seconds. 

All Merlin could do was grin and take a deep breath as he tried his hardest not to lose himself in Arthur’s eyes, and as he attempted to remember what the conversation had been about. Morgana, of course. “When I came to Camelot, I thought you and Morgana would end up married. You have to admit that at the time it would have made perfect sense.” 

He wasn’t prepared for the look on Arthur’s face when he stopped and turned towards him; it was one of those expressions that Merlin had hoped to never see flash across Arthur’s face again. It was one of hurt, anger and resentment, a look that Arthur had worn often after meeting with his father.

“It was understood that we would marry, but when it became clear to me that I could never be happy with her, I told my father I couldn’t go through with it. He was less than pleased, as you can well imagine.” For several seconds, Arthur looked as if his mind was far away, but then he turned around and began walking again. “She never truly forgave me that,” he then said, sadness evident in his voice.

As much as Merlin wanted to ask more, he dared not, but he didn’t miss the “or you,” that Arthur had probably not meant to give voice to. Merlin took a shaky breath and tried to gather the nerve to stop Arthur and ask him to repeat that and force him to explain, but just as they’d done back in the sixth century, it seemed they were once again playing some sort of game where there were thoughts and wants and needs, but never anything more. Merlin wondered if Arthur even realised any of this. 

To be sure, Merlin was only grasping at hope and a lifetime of longing. He had no idea whether Arthur had any thoughts of him beyond their friendship, but he had to keep that hope alive. 

Neither said a word and the silence was deafening as they passed the large window. Merlin, unable to stand the oppressive silence any longer, opened his mouth, but when he thought he saw something through the stained-glass, his breath hitched. It was probably nothing. “Arthur? Did you see that?”

Arthur nodded, removed the sword from where it was and turned to Merlin. “Looks like we have company. Since you don’t listen to my advice when I’m only trying to protect you, I guess it’s time for you and me to go meet our _guest_.” Arthur then lifted the sword up so it reflected the light before he twirled it. “Let’s go.”

As expected, there was no one when they walked outside, but Arthur and Merlin waited, for they were sure their _guest_ would join them sooner rather than later.

Arthur cleared his throat as he continued his watch. “My father has what he calls a New Year’s Eve Revel each year for his employees and I am expected to attend. Would you consider going with?” he asked as they walked the perimeter of the grounds. He wasn’t looking at Merlin. In fact, he was decidedly looking anywhere but at Merlin.

Merlin snorted. “Me? Go to a party at your manor? I don’t have anything to wear and I doubt your father would allow me to wear trousers and a nice shirt. And I don’t do bow ties.” Merlin never took his eyes off of Arthur’s back. “And I don’t think I want to go anywhere with someone who can’t even look me in the eyes when asking me.” Merlin was rewarded when Arthur turned and faced him. He looked uncomfortable, but he did have what could possibly pass as a smile on his face. Merlin took that as a positive sign.

“You really are infuriating, Merlin, but okay, have it your way. “Wou—”

“There they are,” Merlin yelled and ran after the stranger at full speed, followed by Arthur, who passed him up and yelled for Merlin to stop. Merlin continued as he had been, but when Arthur caught up to the person and threw him to the ground before jerking him up to a standing position, Merlin did stop. He felt the magic and it seemed familiar, yet not. He walked to where Arthur had the man in a choke hold, but his eyes went to the sword on the ground; it was infused with magic. Merlin roughly wiped away a tear. It was the sword that had killed Arthur. It had to have been. Then his eyes travelled to the face of the man Arthur held in a tight grip. He shook his head. “No. Not you,” he said, anguish in his voice and on his face. “Wh— what happened?” Merlin managed, only then noticing that Arthur was looking at him, waiting for him to tell him who this person was. “Gilli's his name. I thought he was on my side. I was wrong.”

“No, Merlin, you weren’t wrong,” Gilli said, a look of sadness on his face. “I was on your side. Unfortunately, Morgana found me. I don’t know what she did to me, but here I am. I daresay you and I have probably nearly crossed paths many times over the centuries.”

“Why did you bring Agravaine back?” Arthur asked as he let the other out of the choke hold and put the sword at his neck.

“I was given instructions to bring him back when I found either of you. Apparently she made a promise to Agravaine. Something about allowing him the same opportunity his brother had had.”

Arthur drew blood, but only a small amount as he looked over at Merlin, who had gasped and was pale. “What other instructions have you been given?” he asked, and it was obvious to all three that he was ready to drive the sword straight through the man called Gilli.

“I think you know that I am not at liberty to say,” replied the now smug-looking man, not appearing worried in the least that a sword was probably seconds away from ending his life.

Merlin wanted so very badly to say something to Arthur, to do something to save Gilli. He knew what was about to happen and he didn’t want it to, but if they let Gilli go, he would be free to do more harm. Merlin opened his mouth to speak; he knew that was why Arthur continued to stare at him, but there was really nothing for him to say. He glanced at Gilli and sighed.

Arthur slowly removed the sword from Gilli’s neck as he continued looking at Merlin, but then he returned his attention to the man who had caused them such grief. "I'm sorry, Merlin, but I can't leave him to possibly hurt you again." With no further warning, he shoved the sword into the man’s gut then withdrew it and watched him fall to his knees. Gilli’s surprised eyes looked up at him.

Arthur watched as the lifeless body fell over and several minutes later he checked for a pulse. “He’s dead,” his voice low, simmering with anger as he turned towards Merlin and frowned as he threw the sword down. “I lived my first thirty years being pampered and told that I could do anything I wanted, but that I had to act a certain way. I did. I went to the right schools, played with the right kids, met the right people, and was seen with the right girls. What would they all think now if they knew I’d murdered two people, even if one was not a real person?” he asked Merlin, a deep frown on his face. “I’ll never regret you coming back and I’ll never question what I’ve had to do today, but my father can _never_ find out about any of this, Merlin. He can never know that you have magic. You will be his target if he does and I won’t allow anything to happen to you. I won’t,” he repeated.

Merlin didn’t trust his voice, so he nodded and leaned over to pick up both swords from the ground. He had a huge lump in his throat. He wanted to believe that this had been it and that he and Arthur would be allowed to live their lives without further fear of another attack, but he knew deep down that Arthur and he hadn’t been brought back to this time merely to defeat Agravaine and Gilli. There had to be something else coming. Or, perhaps not. 

Maybe he needed to not think about the future and just enjoy what he had in front of him. If his past had taught him anything, it was that he should live in the present. The future would happen with or without his help.

**~*~**

Merlin stood at the mirror and attempted to straighten his bow tie. He felt ridiculous, but he had to agree with Arthur that his cousin was the same height and weight as him. The tuxedo fit him perfectly.

When he heard a knock on the door he went to open it and grinned. Arthur wore a similar tuxedo and looked as handsome as ever. Not a day over thirty. Not a day older than the last time Merlin had seen him all those many years ago. He couldn’t help the frown that appeared. “I’m so sorry, Arthur. I have caused you so mu—”

“Don’t.” Arthur shook his head as he approached Merlin and straightened his bow tie. “We’ve talked about this and you know my thoughts, but as you obviously need reminding, I will tell you again. I had plenty of friends when I was younger, but most of them were jealous of me and talked about me behind my back. I never understood. My father told me to buck up and get on with it, and that they didn’t matter. But, to me, it all mattered. I always dreamed of waking up in another place where others cared about my thoughts. So you can imagine my surprise when I actually did remember that I had once lived another life. As much hell as we’ve been through this week, I wouldn’t change a thing. You’ve given me a reason to be happy again, Merlin.” Arthur then stepped back and smirked. “You clean up nicely.”

“Thanks,” Merlin said, wanting to say so much more, but knowing he shouldn’t. “But with that happiness there’s been much sadness. Had I not returned, then yesterday wo—”

Arthur put up a hand. “Stop right there, Merlin. Do you want me to tell you that you’re correct and that had you not come back then none of this would have happened? Okay, you win. You’re absolutely right, but the trade-off wouldn’t be an even one. Not even close. If you don’t know why by now, then you’ll never know,” Arthur said as he smoothed out Merlin’s shirt, allowing his hands to linger longer than needed before he turned and walked to the window and looked outside.

“Tonight’s meant to be a celebration to welcome in the New Year,” is what Arthur said, but when he saw Merlin’s reflection giving him one of his Merlin-ish looks, he chuckled. “Okay, okay, yeah, it’s going to be one of those stuffy dos with a bunch of rich businessmen patting each other on the back and congratulating themselves on their latest acquisitions, but as I have no choice but to attend and you have most humbly agreed to go with, then please allow yourself to enjoy the evening. I promise not to leave your side for one moment.”

“I will hold you to that, Arthur,” Merlin said, dreading the next few hours. His body was still healing and he wasn’t looking forward to acting cheerful in front of others. For Arthur, however, he would. He had and thought he probably always would do just about anything for him.

**~*~**

Four hours later, Merlin accepted the champagne flute from the server and grinned at Arthur. Not much longer and the party would be over. He could hardly wait. It had been nothing less than painful to talk to the few people who had dared ask him a question.

“Let’s go out on the balcony. It’s getting a bit warm in here,” and Arthur guided Merlin outdoors. He closed the door behind him and then looked out over the estate. “This is no Camelot, but it’s my home,” he said, squeezing Merlin’s hand in his before letting it go.

“One minute until midnight, everyone. Grab your flutes and significant other and get ready to bring in 2016 properly,” drifted outside from indoors.

“2016,” Merlin said, his voice somewhat shaky. “So much time has passed.” He looked into Arthur’s eyes. “I’m so glad you’re finally here with me. I waited so long, Arthur.”

10

9

Arthur’s eyes seemed unable to leave Merlin’s. He reached out and took Merlin’s free hand in his.

8

7

6

Merlin’s breath hitched when Arthur took his flute and set it, along with his, down on the floor of the balcony, and when Arthur took both hands in his, Merlin closed his eyes and moved closer so that he felt Arthur’s breath caressing him.

5

4

Time seemed to have slowed down.

3

2

1

“Happy New Year, Merlin,” Arthur whispered before he leaned in and gently kissed him. It only lasted a second before he pulled back, but when Merlin smiled at him, Arthur kissed him again, just as gently, but he didn’t break it until Merlin pulled back.

Merlin hugged Arthur and melted into his arms as he breathed in the familiar scent of the man he loved. He’d waited so very long for this moment and never wanted to let go. When he heard Arthur whispering into his ear that he’d always loved him, Merlin smiled and then pulled back so he could look into Arthur’s eyes. 

What Merlin wished he could say to Arthur was just how long he had been in love with him, but as that meant mentioning Mordred’s name, Merlin didn’t dare. Truth be told, he knew the words wouldn’t come if he tried. Just thinking about it had unshed tears clinging to the corners of his eyes. “And I you,” he said as he leaned in and brushed his lips across Arthur’s.

Music began to play and as the words reverberated through the doors, Merlin thought about everything he and Arthur had been through and everyone who had ever touched their lives. All of those people were long gone, but not one of them would ever leave their thoughts.

> _Should auld acquaintance be forgot,_  
>  And never brought to mind?  
>  Should auld acquaintance be forgot,  
>  And days o’ lang syne! (And days of long ago)… 

The music continued and Merlin found himself and Arthur dancing. They weren’t moving much at all, but it was the perfect way to ring in 2016. He closed his eyes and shut out the outside world — until he heard someone clearing their throat. 

Merlin and Arthur separated and turned to face Arthur’s father.

“I just wanted to let the two of you know that I am no longer selling the castle in Camelot. It is the oddest thing. Apparently, the gentleman has disappeared, as has his associate. I knew the two of you would want to know. I daresay you will be spending time together there now that it seems you are together,” he said, not hiding his surprise and perhaps disappointment.

Merlin couldn’t blame him. It had been less than a week, but what Arthur’s father would and could never know was that his son and him being together had come after over 1400 years of waiting. Merlin thought that the kisses they’d shared had been long overdue. He smiled.

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but his father put up a hand. “I have no problem with the two of you being together, Arthur, and Merlin,” he then said as he turned to him, “my son has never been one to give his heart to anyone. I have despaired that he might spend the rest of his life alone. That you have managed to break through that rough and tough exterior of his has garnered my respect.”

“Thank you, sir,” Merlin replied, horrified that he was trembling all over.

“Now I will leave the two of you alone so you can get back to your dancing.”

As soon as his father closed the door to the balcony, Arthur pulled Merlin to him and rubbed his arms. “You are freezing,” he whispered as he enveloped Merlin in a hug. 

Several minutes later, Merlin pulled back and looked at Arthur. “So, we kissed and your father gave us his blessing. I think I’ve wanted you to kiss me for longer than I want to think about, but what about you? Is this just because you feel alone or is this real?” Merlin asked, needing to know, but he wished he had said nothing when Arthur sighed as he stepped back, let go of Merlin’s hands and threw his own hands up in the air. “What?” Merlin asked, hurt and confused.

“Would it be too much for you to just enjoy the moment, Merlin?” Arthur asked, his voice calm, but tinged with urgency. “And did you not hear what I whispered into your ear? Was that not enough to let you know how I feel about you? We have the rest of our lives to talk and be serious. I don’t want to do that tonight. All I want to do tonight is hold you and to know that you’re holding me. I want to stand here until the sun comes up. I want to feel alive and happy with you.”

There was only one response to that. Merlin stepped back into Arthur’s arms and snuggled himself into the broad chest in front of him. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to live in the perfect moment. Until he coughed and couldn’t stop.

“Are you feeling okay?” Arthur asked as he pulled back and looked at Merlin worriedly. “It‘s been a long day. If you want to go have a lie-down, I’ll understand. I wasn’t thinking about that. Sorry,” and Arthur really did look apologetic.

“I’m fine, nothing that you holding me won’t remedy,” whispered Merlin, resting his head on Arthur’s shoulder. He knew that within the next few minutes they’d be inside and Arthur would be treating him like a patient again. It wasn’t at all a bad thought. He pressed a kiss to Arthur's shoulder. “But, if I fall asleep, I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Forever, Merlin.”


End file.
